Major Robert Dump
03-28-2013, 05:23
I would like to tell you all about a nice guy from these forums, his name is Strike For Some South.
Strike For Some South is a large man, a tough man, but I could tell he had the heart of a teddy bear because he let me inside his heart and for that I will forever be grateful. Even though he often talks tough on these forums, and despite sometimes starting fights with other people at the bars we went to, deep down inside he is a sensitive as a five year old girl and kind of smells like one to boot.
I first met Strike For Some South in San Antonio. I was stuck there because my mobile home broke down, and Strike contacted me through PM in hopes that he could meet with me, his PM peppered with smileys and XOs. We agreed to meet in a public place, so I chose a Pho restaurant because what better to fit a magical night than The Magical Soup?
Strike For Some South was just how I always imagined him: tall and muscular, with a George Michael beard. The dumbbell earring in his left ear sparkled and shined almost as much as the one in his penis, or so I heard. He spoke with a slight gentlemanly southern twang, and wore an old Native American tie with a Colonel Sanders hat. He was majestico.
He totally copied me and ordered Pho. He also copied me and ordered a beer, but that's okay, for on this breakthrough meeting I learned many important things about Strike For Some South:
He comes from a Mormon home, with 14 brothers and sisters.
He currently works in a Jewish meat market
He has had sexual relations with around 28% of the college-aged female population in south Texas.
He attended Texas A&M where he majored in Okra.
He plans to attend law school, but will likely change his focus of study to Divorce, because he will be able to meet lots of single moms that way and the best thing about single moms is that you know right off the bat that they put out.
After we finished our meal, I apologized for being so fat and suggested we go somewhere more intellectually stimulating, like Hooters, where I could eat some more. At Hooters we drank more beer and talked politics, and it was here that I discovered that Strike For Some South is blind in one eye. There was a table of Indian men being very loud and disrespectful to the lovely ladies, and Strike wanted to assault them all, but I talked him down in the spirit of diversity and instead ordered the table a round of hamburgers. We parted at 11pm because we both had plans the next day.
The next time I met with Strike For Some South we met at a burger barn named after a type of wild cow. It was really good. We drank a lot of beer. I gave him lots of advice on how to pick up hookers and told him lots of cool hooker stories. I explained to always check for a bus stop sign before propositioning what one thinks is a group of hookers. He told me about his family and refused to introduce me to his sisters. Unfortunately, he had to go to work at 4am because, as he stated with his Sam Elliot twang, "Jewish folk gotta eat, too." And with a tip of his hat he was gone.
The next time I met with Strike For Some South, we again went to a burger/beer barn, don't remember the name, but this one sported a giant outdoor playground and was very much kid-themes, with lots of toys and kid sized beers. It kind of freaked me out because kids still scare me, but Strike For Some South calmed me by holding my hand. We drank much beer and talked about all sorts of things, especially people at The Org. I tried to get him to go to a Strip Club with me because the two of us playing as a team would lower my average weight by 50 pounds, but again, he has to feed the Jewish folk.
After several text and PM exchanges, I suggested we take the relationship to the next step: chicken fried steak and beers on a day he did not have to wake up early the next. He agreed and together we split the largest chicken fried steak in the universe, it was not unlike Lady and the Tramp eating spaghetti except neither of us can lick our own butts (yet). Afterwards, we travelled to the historic district to drink as they did in the old times at the Tilted Kilt. It was here that I taught several of my famous pick up lines to Strike For Some South, but they are all about being old and the target being younger, so Strike will not be able to use them legally for another 16 years when he finally turns 32. We also talked a lot about the Org. I also shared with him a fine work of literature written by one of the Orgs more colorful members, and we both high fived in a very manly manner as we found the various shout outs to ourselves. We drank until 11pm, then proceeded to the store where we bought lots of Old Milwaulkee and Natty Light, mixed them together in an empty trash bin, then sat in the back of his truck drinking the Milk of The Gods and watching the sun come up.
The next time we met again at Tilted Kilt, but the lovelies were so exotic and overwhelming that we made the mutual decision to drive in my car to the mall. It is here that we sat in the vehicle, which has heavily tinted windows, and watched women come and go from Old Navy. Later, we moved the operation indoors and each found a separate clothing rack under a speaker, so our grunts could not be heard over the mall music. After we were finished, I waited in the car for 2 hours but had to go back in to find Strike because it turns out he rolled over and fell asleep.
We had lots of other good times together, but much of it centered on beer, musing about The Org, and flirting with waitresses. For the record, I counted no less than 13 different waitresses at various establishments who knew Strike and in some cases had coupled with him or one of his brothers. I do remember that much. And that I got really fat in San Antonio. And he would never let me pay even though I am sugar Daddy age, and when I did manage to pay he would always slip money into my pocket when I wasn't looking, except that one time I cut a hole in my pocket and had my No No in there, for which he tipped me a dollar anyway. And of course, I remember the last time we met, and that long tearful goodbye and bro hug.
8890
I miss you Strike For Some South
MRD XOXO
Strike For Some South is a large man, a tough man, but I could tell he had the heart of a teddy bear because he let me inside his heart and for that I will forever be grateful. Even though he often talks tough on these forums, and despite sometimes starting fights with other people at the bars we went to, deep down inside he is a sensitive as a five year old girl and kind of smells like one to boot.
I first met Strike For Some South in San Antonio. I was stuck there because my mobile home broke down, and Strike contacted me through PM in hopes that he could meet with me, his PM peppered with smileys and XOs. We agreed to meet in a public place, so I chose a Pho restaurant because what better to fit a magical night than The Magical Soup?
Strike For Some South was just how I always imagined him: tall and muscular, with a George Michael beard. The dumbbell earring in his left ear sparkled and shined almost as much as the one in his penis, or so I heard. He spoke with a slight gentlemanly southern twang, and wore an old Native American tie with a Colonel Sanders hat. He was majestico.
He totally copied me and ordered Pho. He also copied me and ordered a beer, but that's okay, for on this breakthrough meeting I learned many important things about Strike For Some South:
He comes from a Mormon home, with 14 brothers and sisters.
He currently works in a Jewish meat market
He has had sexual relations with around 28% of the college-aged female population in south Texas.
He attended Texas A&M where he majored in Okra.
He plans to attend law school, but will likely change his focus of study to Divorce, because he will be able to meet lots of single moms that way and the best thing about single moms is that you know right off the bat that they put out.
After we finished our meal, I apologized for being so fat and suggested we go somewhere more intellectually stimulating, like Hooters, where I could eat some more. At Hooters we drank more beer and talked politics, and it was here that I discovered that Strike For Some South is blind in one eye. There was a table of Indian men being very loud and disrespectful to the lovely ladies, and Strike wanted to assault them all, but I talked him down in the spirit of diversity and instead ordered the table a round of hamburgers. We parted at 11pm because we both had plans the next day.
The next time I met with Strike For Some South we met at a burger barn named after a type of wild cow. It was really good. We drank a lot of beer. I gave him lots of advice on how to pick up hookers and told him lots of cool hooker stories. I explained to always check for a bus stop sign before propositioning what one thinks is a group of hookers. He told me about his family and refused to introduce me to his sisters. Unfortunately, he had to go to work at 4am because, as he stated with his Sam Elliot twang, "Jewish folk gotta eat, too." And with a tip of his hat he was gone.
The next time I met with Strike For Some South, we again went to a burger/beer barn, don't remember the name, but this one sported a giant outdoor playground and was very much kid-themes, with lots of toys and kid sized beers. It kind of freaked me out because kids still scare me, but Strike For Some South calmed me by holding my hand. We drank much beer and talked about all sorts of things, especially people at The Org. I tried to get him to go to a Strip Club with me because the two of us playing as a team would lower my average weight by 50 pounds, but again, he has to feed the Jewish folk.
After several text and PM exchanges, I suggested we take the relationship to the next step: chicken fried steak and beers on a day he did not have to wake up early the next. He agreed and together we split the largest chicken fried steak in the universe, it was not unlike Lady and the Tramp eating spaghetti except neither of us can lick our own butts (yet). Afterwards, we travelled to the historic district to drink as they did in the old times at the Tilted Kilt. It was here that I taught several of my famous pick up lines to Strike For Some South, but they are all about being old and the target being younger, so Strike will not be able to use them legally for another 16 years when he finally turns 32. We also talked a lot about the Org. I also shared with him a fine work of literature written by one of the Orgs more colorful members, and we both high fived in a very manly manner as we found the various shout outs to ourselves. We drank until 11pm, then proceeded to the store where we bought lots of Old Milwaulkee and Natty Light, mixed them together in an empty trash bin, then sat in the back of his truck drinking the Milk of The Gods and watching the sun come up.
The next time we met again at Tilted Kilt, but the lovelies were so exotic and overwhelming that we made the mutual decision to drive in my car to the mall. It is here that we sat in the vehicle, which has heavily tinted windows, and watched women come and go from Old Navy. Later, we moved the operation indoors and each found a separate clothing rack under a speaker, so our grunts could not be heard over the mall music. After we were finished, I waited in the car for 2 hours but had to go back in to find Strike because it turns out he rolled over and fell asleep.
We had lots of other good times together, but much of it centered on beer, musing about The Org, and flirting with waitresses. For the record, I counted no less than 13 different waitresses at various establishments who knew Strike and in some cases had coupled with him or one of his brothers. I do remember that much. And that I got really fat in San Antonio. And he would never let me pay even though I am sugar Daddy age, and when I did manage to pay he would always slip money into my pocket when I wasn't looking, except that one time I cut a hole in my pocket and had my No No in there, for which he tipped me a dollar anyway. And of course, I remember the last time we met, and that long tearful goodbye and bro hug.
8890
I miss you Strike For Some South
MRD XOXO